during the day
these canals of time crisscrossing
your indifferent face
are dry
only occasionally the wind
blows sand across

but at night
water rises from the deep well
of your eyes
overflows and fills them

then like a first-time sailor
you set the ragged sail of your boat
of memory
jostling about all night
in the labyrinth that has no outlet
till dawn_________________欢迎访问<非马艺术世界>
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